


a drop of gold

by oogenesis



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16540826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oogenesis/pseuds/oogenesis
Summary: A conversation, and the moment that interrupts it.





	a drop of gold

Sunset after practice, and Endou and Kidou are walking home. Gouenji is staying behind to work on an as-yet-unnamed hissatsu the team has jokingly suggested should be called Fire Hurricane, and so it’s just the two of them, walking along the same old path; the high school is some ways away from the middle school, but after a mile the route rejoins what it used to be, on the way home. 

Endou sighs and says, “Can’t believe Someoka and Captain fought again.”

“It’s unfortunate,” agrees Kidou. “Someoka’s not used to being treated as a junior member of any team. After Inazuma Japan, I think he was expecting more.”

“I think it’s the same for all of us,” says Endou, looking down at the ball in his hands. “We’ve all had to adjust, haven’t we? He’s just not taking it well.”

“It’s his pride,” agrees Kidou. _And underlying insecurity._ “He should get used to it by the end of the year, though.”

Their first year on the high school soccer team has been interesting, to say the least. There’s the typical shift from being the most senior in their school to the most junior, but complicating that is their reputation. They’ve sailed into high school on the wings of their global victory; you don’t just treat someone like that the way you’d treat any other underclassman, no matter their classmates’ best efforts to remain impartial. A strange dynamic has resulted, equal parts admiration and bitterness; their coach has been having them do cooperation exercises to try to soften the bitterness and reduce the admiration to a more even playing field. It seems to be working, but slowly.

“Course, maybe next year’s captain will know how to coordinate everything,” says Endou, bouncing the ball a little in his hands as they walk; a light toss, a light catch, repeat. “Since the current one is graduating this year, and all.”

“He certainly is,” says Kidou, then, because he knows Endou is thinking it, asks, “Who do you think is going to replace him?”

“Ah…” says Endou, flustered, and shifts the ball to one hand to rub at the back of his neck with the other. “Well… to be honest, I think it’s probably going to be either you or me.”

“I’ve been thinking the same.” There’s a faint blush spread across Endou’s cheeks. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s the obvious conclusion.”

“I guess,” says Endou, and drops the ball in his hands to bounce it off his foot, catch and repeat with each step. “I just… feel bad for the second-years.”

“I know,” says Kidou, and won’t admit it’s been gnawing at him. They’ve been working so hard, and none of them will get a chance at captainship because a bunch of world champion first-years have swanned into their club and taken all the good stuff. It’s hard not for the old self-blame to set in.

“I’ve been wondering,” says Endou, face in a little set frown, “if I could get Captain to pick someone else. Someone who really needs the experience, you know? I’ve already _been_ captain. Someone else should have a turn.”

“I’ve thought the same,” agrees Kidou. “But unfortunately, I don’t think that would work out. The fact that you were captain through a world tournament means you have a lot more experience, and have acquired all sorts of skills through that experience. It would be detrimental to the team to nominate someone who didn’t know what they were doing.” Sometimes, he thinks, life just isn’t fair.

Endou elbows him. “Hey, hey, you’re a candidate too! Give yourself some credit, it’s not just me!”

Kidou shrugs. “I’m a candidate because I’m smart,” he says neutrally. “It’s just how I am, it’s not something I earned or worked for. I’m not sure how deserving it is.”

“It is _too_ deserving.” They’ve reached a stone wall running alongside the sidewalk; Endou stops and leans against it, and Kidou does too. “And you _did_ work for your strategy skills, and they got us all the way to nationals. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I suppose,” says Kidou, a slow warmth running down from his head to his toes. This topic feels dangerous somehow, like reaching a hand too close to a wonderful fire, so he changes it. “Who on the team do you think would make a good captain?”

“Hm.” Endou frowns, thinking; sets aside the ball on the stone wall and crosses his arms in focus. “Tatsuki-senpai, for starters. He always seems to know exactly what the opponent is thinking.”

“True, but he sometimes misjudges his plays,” says Kidou, and leans back to stare up at the sky. “Fuuta-senpai, maybe. Everyone listens when he speaks…” He trails off. The fact of the matter is that, try as he might to think of various teammates as captain, match the armband to their face and imagine taking directions from them, there’s only one person he can ever imagine as his captain, and that’s—“But—I’d rather it be you, Endou.”

“Ah…” The blush that spreads across Endou’s face, reddens his ears, is rose-petal soft. Endou rubs at his neck, gives a little “Hehe,” and says, “Thanks, Kidou. I appreciate it.” 

“It’s the truth,” says Kidou, and then, on a natural impulse, takes Endou’s hand; it’s warm and comforting as he always is. “If you became captain next year, it’d feel right.”

Endou squeezes his hand, and a ripple of warmth goes through him. “Thank you, Kidou. That’s really nice to hear.” A bird flies overhead, tracing the sunset sky. “You’d make a great captain too, you know? You already have the experience, back at Teikoku, and I know you did a great job then.”

What Kidou won’t admit is that he barely even remembers half his time at Teikoku, swallowed up as it is in repression, murky darkness, and a self he’d rather forget. What he says is, “Maybe. A lot has changed since then.”

“So have you,” says Endou, in a tone of pure and simple trust. “You’ve gotten even better. You’re really a genius, Kidou.”

Kidou finds his tongue, unties it after that compliment. “I just hope,” he says, light, teasing, pretending he doesn’t mean it, “I don’t pose too much competition to your shot at captaincy.”

“Competition? Never.” Endou leans into him, gives Kidou’s shoulder a friendly bump with his. It only brings them closer together and Kidou’s heart gives a little skip. “Whoever gets the position, I’ll be happy.”

“Me too. I’m fine either way. I hope you get it.”

“That’s good,” says Endou softly. At length he adds, “I wouldn’t mind if you became captain, Kidou. You’d be amazing at it.”

The compliment drops into Kidou’s chest, spreads warm like melting butter. “Thank you.”

“I’m just stating facts,” says Endou lightly, the words brushing Kidou’s mouth like feathers, and Kidou can’t respond because now Endou is kissing him, or he is kissing Endou, something rare and magical that has happened without either of them consciously initiating. As though a kind of magnetism decided to descend upon them and interrupt their conversation. Endou pulls away, makes a thoughtful “Mm” noise deep in his throat, readjusts, and then they’re kissing again. It’s like warm honey, something to sink into and float in. Their mouths move against each other, gentle, exploratory, and Endou’s mouth is soft and warm, and Kidou, who spent years being taught to repress his emotions, nonetheless feels something uncontrollably vast and tender well up in him and fill every corner of his body, something that has been waiting for this moment. His free hand comes up to Endou’s face to pull him closer; Endou’s cheek is soft.

After a moment they separate. They are still holding hands and neither of them speaks for a while; Endou makes a noise like he’s about to, then falls silent. The moment feels serene and untouchable, like a bubble floating in the sunset air.

Finally Kidou clears his throat. “It’s going to get dark soon.”

“Sure is,” says Endou, and pushes up off the wall, picking the ball back up in one hand, not letting go of Kidou’s with the other. They set off again. Houses pass by, shops and buildings, and after a while Endou says, “Kakera-senpai’s pass to Kazemaru today—don’t you think that’s hissatsu material?” 

Kidou nods. “The way it angled around Tsuchida-senpai’s block… We should bring that up to Captain, see if they can drill it—”

And the moment sits on the stone wall behind them, the ripples of it fading.

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally an idea that sprung off a related fic, and it wasn't even meant to be romantic - i was writing it in my head, or it was writing itself in my head, and it was like the story had a life of its own. i was like. wait. wait. are they going to kiss. oh my god they're kissing!!! holy shit!!!
> 
> anyway idk what the main point of this fic even is but i hope you enjoyed. comments/feedback highly appreciated, critique welcome.


End file.
